>>>>>Killing Time<<<<<

Interviewed by (rugby) League Express. I got desperately paranoid as it got nearer, and suddenly found myself brushing up on league positions, made sure I knew the John Kear (FC coach) saga back to front and memorised every Clive Sullivan statistic I could get hold of. You can't be too careful where journalists are concerned. I shouldn't have worried - it was a lovely chat. Had an enjoyable journey to the cash machine - there was a crisp £10 waiting for me, which I neatly folded and, after checking for candid cameras, popped in my pocket. We spent it shortly afterwards in the Spring Bank Tavern, where the script was dissected for the 'nth time and various arrows were drawn on it, to assist me in relocating various speeches. I can hardly wait.
Had to sign back up to bluesq.com to lay an online bet on the National. As ever, our donkeys fell in the early stages. I had Ballycassidy in the sweep at work and he was doing well for a while, but Ross Comm, who caused all that false start nonsense, was done for by the fourth. Still, cause for celebration - at least none of the frothy beasts had to be shot at the end. I ate a packet of sour Chewits to get me through the excitement.